


Of a Different Kind

by Herenya_writes



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AU Fae Spock, Arranged Marriage, Fantasy AU, Jim has trust issues, Jim is human royalty, M/M, Miscommunication, Spock is fae royalty, They have an arranged marriage, because i am soft for these two, they work it out in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27809119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herenya_writes/pseuds/Herenya_writes
Summary: Jim storms out of the castle following the announcement of his engagement--his parents expect him to marry a fae he's met once--and into the forest. But, because he is insatiably curious, when he hears music drifting through the woods he follows the sound and encounters a beautiful and mysterious fae. They come to enjoy each other's company, all the while, Jim's impending marriage looms closer and closer.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 23
Kudos: 136
Collections: Kirk/Spock Secret Santa 2020





	Of a Different Kind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LemmonPie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemmonPie/gifts).



> This fic was written for the Spirk winter gift exchange for LemmonPie based off of the prompt: Jim is descendant of a monarchy and they have an arrange with the descendant the King of Fairies, they doesn't like it, Spock either but the woods knows the heart and know what to do to bring them together.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

The branches of the trees seemed to reach outward, snagging in Jim’s coat and hair as he ran. The path he had chosen—although chosen was likely too strong a word to describe the blind scramble that had led him here—was largely overgrown. He could vaguely remember the path from his childhood, but that was before, and it seemed it hadn’t been used since. Good. That meant no one would look for him here. 

He scrambled further down the path, the steep slope causing him to stumble more than once. His pulse was in his ears, almost thrumming loud enough to drown out the cacophony of yelling in his mind. When the path leveled out at the bottom of the hill, snaking its way deeper into the forest, however, his pulse calmed, leaving his thoughts loud enough to deafen him.

Married. He was supposed to get married to someone he only met once when he was seven years old.  _ Married! _ And his parents had set the date for the day after his twentieth birthday, one week from today. 

They hadn’t tried to stop him when he had stormed out of the feasting hall. Bones had grabbed his elbow and said something about being careful, but Jim had barely heard him. Instead, all he could think of were the dreams that had died the second his father had announced his impending marriage.

Jim hated being used. He hated the thought of people pulling the strings of his life, no matter how good their intentions were. As the second-born prince, he had been spared a lot of the politics that Sam had been subject to growing up, and he had been grateful for that. Sam had been groomed to take their father’s place as king since he was old enough to walk, while Jim had largely been left out of any political schemes. Or so he had thought.

He kicked a stray rock that lay beside the path, listening with satisfaction as it thunked dully against a tree in the gloom. He should have brought some kind of light with him, but that hadn’t exactly been a priority when he had been dashing through the twisting halls of the castle. He turned blindly to the right when the path branched, hardly paying attention to where it led him.

Even worse than the fact that his parents had decided to marry him off, however, was who they were marrying him off to. It wasn’t some member of royalty from a neighboring kingdom the way Sam’s marriage had been. He was being married to a prince, alright, but not a human one. In one week, the prince of the faes would be his husband. Or more accurately, he would be the prince of the faes’ husband. He doubted it would be an equal partnership.

His feet carried him deeper into the woods, and he was grateful for the full moon that lit the path enough to keep him from tripping. It shone through the twisting branches of the trees, the light falling on the leaf-strewn path and illuminating the ragged edges of embedded stones and the snaking curves of half-buried roots. 

His family’s kingdom had always had a peaceful relationship with the faes, but that was only because the faes seemed content to leave them alone as long as they were left alone. Everyone knew that the faes weren’t  _ benevolent _ . If they decided they wanted to overtake his father’s kingdom they could because nothing the humans had was capable of combating their inherent power. The royal family was protected to some extent by old magic, but even that was weak in the face of an entire kingdom of faes. At least he wasn’t being married off for no reason. Hopefully, his presence would be enough to stop his...husband from deciding to do anything that could hurt his people once the fae took control of the court. 

That didn’t mean he was happy about it.

The path branched again, this time into four directions. He hesitated for a moment before stepping down the middle-right path that seemed slightly better lit than the others. The trees here were tall and tangled and the path was lined on both sides by dense undergrowth. The air was still. 

He had planned on joining his father’s exploratory expeditions when he turned twenty. Bones had even promised to go with him. There was so much of the world that they hadn’t explored, and Jim wanted to meet new people, establish treaties and trade routes. He had a feeling they could learn so much from the other people of the world, and he wanted to have a direct hand in it all. That would never happen now.

The path started to narrow. Originally, it had been wide enough for three men to stand abreast and walk, but now it was closer to two. The branches of the trees also seemed to hang further out into the path. He ducked under one, only half seeing it, his mind too occupied by other thoughts.

There were many things he knew about faes. Rules for interacting with them had been drilled into his and Sam’s heads forever, and even now that they were both grown his parents would occasionally quiz them on the difference between lesser and greater fae or how to escape a fae circle if they accidentally stepped inside. Right now, though, there were only two things he cared about. First, all fae possessed powerful magic that was capable of turning the minds of humans to do their will. The royal court of the faes was especially strong, and Jim had heard that the prince was the most gifted in that magic in hundreds of years. Second, faes were inherently possessive of the things they considered to be theirs. Those two facts left him with a crystal clear image of what his marriage would be—he would belong to his husband in just about every sense of the word.

A sound pulled Jim from his thoughts. It was faint, drifting to him despite the absence of a breeze, but it seemed to pierce through his mind straight to his heart. He listened closer, stepping toward the trees that lined the path. Music, it was music he was hearing. The tune was foreign and familiar at the same time as if he knew it not in his mind but in his soul.

He stepped off the path.

There was a split second when he recalled the warnings his mother had given him about dangers in the woods, but the thought passed as quickly as it had come and soon he was nearly jogging through the trees. He ducked under a branch and turned to his right, following the sound deeper into the woods. Eventually—he had no idea how much time had passed—he stood at the edge of a clearing. A small stream ran through it, cutting it nearly in half, and sitting on the bank opposite Jim was a fae. 

They were sitting with a lyre of some kind in their lap, gently plucking at the strings. Their long black hair fell in a curtain in front of their face, obscuring their features from Jim’s view. He hesitated at the edge of the clearing, uncertain if he should leave or not. The music the fae played was entrancing, but Jim didn’t feel drawn to it anymore—if there was fae magic at work it must be too weak to influence him any further.

After a long moment, he stepped further into the clearing, doing his best to stay quiet so as not to disturb the musician. He had always been curious about faes, and he figured if he had at least held a conversation with one before marrying their prince it would be a good idea. Right? Bones would say he’s a reckless idiot, but Jim preferred the term insatiably curious. 

He was halfway to the stream when the music stopped. He froze, holding his place as the musician carefully placed their lyre to the side and looked up. Jim’s breath caught in his throat. 

The fae had pointed ears like all of their kind, slanted eyebrows, and deceptively delicate cheekbones. It was their eyes, however, that silenced him. They darted over him quickly, seeming to drink in his entire essence in a single second until Jim was left with a vague feeling that no matter what he said, the fae would already know the words before he spoke them. One eyebrow raised in a silent question, and Jim quickly averted his eyes, forcing down the blush that threatened to stain his cheeks. There was no reason to give the fae any more power over him. 

“Are you lost?” The fae asked, and Jim shivered. Their voice was deep and smooth and caused the air to vibrate with power. Whoever this fae was, they were powerful. But they didn’t seem to be using that power, instead, it simply hung in the air, present but undirected.

Jim swallowed and stepped forward until he was standing on the bank opposite the fae. “No. I must have gone further into the woods than I intended, but I know the way back,” he answered carefully, mind scrambling to recall all of the rules that governed the situation he had put himself in.

The fae nodded, something akin to a smile twisting at their lips. “It is late. Humans do not tend to wander so deeply in the woods at this hour.”

Concern suddenly washed over Jim. Had this fae laid claim to this section of the woods? Had he wandered so far that he was no longer under the protection of the treaty that defined his father’s borders? “If I am disturbing you, I’ll leave. As I said, I went further than I intended and—”

“You are not, although I am curious as to why you are here. Will you assuage my curiosity?”

Jim’s first instinct was to say no—if he truly had wandered into fae territory, then it was an even worse idea than normal to agree to anything this fae asked of him—but he stayed quiet. He was going to be a member of the faes’ court in a week and he needed to be able to hold a conversation with his future husband’s people on his own. He wouldn’t be able to rely on his protection.

“If you will agree to answer a few of my own questions, yes.”

Something Jim wanted to call amusement flickered across the fae’s face, those eyes roaming over him once again. “Very well. May I ask your name?”

Jim blinked. He had always been warned about faes who would ask to  _ have _ his name, to keep and claim it. It was the reason his middle name had never been spoken aloud at anything other than his official name ceremony—a fae who knew your name in any capacity had greater power over you, but one who knew your full name was ten times as dangerous. Was this fae trying to lure him into a false sense of security, or was he simply being considerate? 

“You can call me Jim,” he managed eventually.

The fae inclined their head, something flickered in their eyes that Jim couldn’t identify. “You may call me Spock.” Jim nodded, and the fae seemed to examine him for several moments before asking, “Why are you in the woods at this hour?”

“I’m avoiding someone,” Jim answered. “I just learned some bad news, and I’m clearing my head before I go back home.” Spock looked curious about that, head tilting slightly. “Why are you here in this clearing?”

The fae blinked once. “I am preparing for the prince’s wedding.”

Oh. “Ah. Yes. I heard that was coming up soon.” Jim barely resisted the urge to start fiddling with the torn edge of his sleeve. “Are you a member of the court?” The fine stitching of Spock’s tunic—which seemed to shimmer a different color every time Jim focused on it—seemed to suggest so.

“I am the son of a high-ranking court member,” was the reply. The words seemed a little stilted as if they were a rehearsed response. Suspicion and fear bolted through Jim, but he pushed them away. So what if Spock wasn’t being entirely truthful? He wasn’t exactly being forthcoming in his responses either.

“Is the court looking forward to the marriage?” Jim asked before he could stop himself. He wanted to know if his future husband was...excited? That wasn’t the right word. He just...if he had to be married off, it would be nice to know his future spouse wasn’t indifferent to it. 

Spock strummed a few stray notes on his lyre, eyes thoughtful. “The marriage is considered a logical one, politically, and there is precedent for a fae to marry a human.”

Jim frowned. “There is?”

Spock nodded, his lips twitching briefly. Jim couldn’t tell if the aborted expression was a smile or a frown. “The queen is human. The prince is half-fae and half-human.”

A hundred questions sprang to Jim’s lips, but he swallowed them. He didn’t have any experience reading faes’ facial expressions, but he had plenty reading humans, and if they were anything alike, then the look on Spock’s face meant he’d rather talk about something else.

“That song you were playing—I thought I recognized it,” he said instead, hoping it was a safer topic. Something in him wanted to keep talking to this fae, even if he didn’t get any of the information he had originally sought. “Does it have a name?”

Spock raised an eyebrow, fingers brushing over his lyre with just enough pressure to cause the strings to vibrate softly. “It does, although it is not one that you would be able to pronounce. In your language, the closest translation would be ‘Song of the Endless Future’, although that is not quite accurate. It is unlikely that a human would have heard it before.”

Strange. Jim was certain that the melody had been played for him before, but as he tried to concentrate on the memory it shifted in and out of focus as if he were trying to grasp fog in his hands. He frowned but let the half-memory go, turning his mind back to the fae across from him instead. “Will the song be played at the wedding?”

“Perhaps.”

Jim shook his head. He should have expected a half-answer from a fae. It was said that they never told lies but that they also rarely told truths, instead preferring to twist their words somewhere in between the two.

“You said that you were avoiding someone, and you came from the direction of the castle of George Kirk,” Spock observed after Jim was silent for several moments. “Do you live there?”

Once again, power seemed to hang in the air. It was almost oppressive, it’s strength. The fact that Jim could feel it at all meant that the fae sitting across from him was incredibly strong, and yet Jim didn’t feel pressured to speak. He thought a moment, leaning back on one arm before saying, “I do. I’ve lived there my entire life.”

Spock hummed, and the sound sent another shiver racing down Jim’s spine. “What is the human court like these days? I’ve heard that King George was planning expeditions across the continent, but I’m not certain I believe the rumors.”

The fae had heard of his father’s plans? What was he thinking, of course they had. Nothing important happened without the fae knowing about it. They probably knew more about the going-ons of the kingdom than he did. 

“He is. The first expeditions are supposed to leave in a few months and be out for two years.”

“And anything they discover will be claimed in the king’s name?”

Jim bristled and sat up once again, although the tone of the fae’s question was more genuine than accusatory. “No. It will be mapped, and if we encounter other humans or fae we will attempt to establish diplomatic relations with them like we have the other nearby kingdoms, but we will not claim anything.”

The fae bowed his head. “I apologize for the assumption. I have been taught that humans seek nothing more than to expand their domains—it seems this is incorrect.”

The words calmed the tension in his body, and he relaxed. “It’s a fair assumption to make,” he admitted grudgingly. “Humans have a history of conquest, and I am sure there are people who would prefer we continued that tradition. King George doesn’t, though.”

Spock nodded, his dark eyes looking thoughtful. “You said ‘we’ when you referenced the exploratory teams. Will you be joining them?”

Longing and pain lanced through Jim as he shook his head. He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice—he doubted he succeeded—as he replied, “No. That was the plan originally, but something came up.”

Once again a certain something flickered in Spock’s eyes, but Jim was too far and the light from the moon was too dim for him to tell what that something was. Amusement, perhaps? Sympathy? Jim didn’t give himself the time to dwell on it, instead asking, “What about you, have you always been in the fae court?”

“Yes,” Spock answered, tilting his head, black hair shimmering in the moonlight. “Appointments are for life and are largely hereditary. When my father is unable to perform his duties I will take his place.”

A question rose to the front of Jim’s mind and slipped out his mouth before he could stop it. “You said that you were taught that humans are always trying to expand their territory, but that’s what I was taught about faes. Do you think the prince will try to do that once he takes control of the court?”

“He will not.” The answer was terse, and Jim knew the fae was feeling some of the same defensiveness he had felt earlier. 

Silence stretched between them for a while, broken only by the soft rustling of trees. Jim wasn’t sure when the breeze had started, but it blew gently through the clearing, just this side of chilly. Eventually, he stood. “I have to return to the castle now,” he said.

Spock rose as well, the motion fluid and graceful in a way that a human could never be. “Of course. It is late. Do you require assistance returning?”

“No, I can find the way. Farewell, Spock.” He bowed slightly, and to his surprise, the fae returned the gesture.

“Farewell, Jim.”

When Jim finally made his way back to the castle and collapsed on his bed, his heart seemed a little lighter. He had managed a conversation with a fae and a powerful one at that. Perhaps he wouldn’t end up a mere plaything to his future husband after all.

. . .

The next night, Jim found himself walking down the same forest path he had trod the night before. He had spent the entire day in meeting after meeting with his parents, advisors, seamstresses, and other members of the court. He was exhausted, quite frankly, his brain spinning. Today had made his impending marriage so much more  _ real _ . Apparently, the ceremony was being held in a section of the woods sacred to the faes, but the night before was his birthday celebration, and so everyone was busy with something. 

Bones had managed to pull him away from meetings for about an hour, and they talked about things and what the future would be like. Jim thought about telling him about Spock, but something held him back. Instead, he listened to his friend declare that he would stay by his side no matter what happened. It was touching, and Jim knew he was endlessly lucky to have a friend like the country doctor. They had only been close for a few years—since Bones moved into the castle to study under their royal physician—but Jim knew he could rely on him through anything.

If Bones could see him right now, he would say he was being an idiot, but Jim couldn’t help himself. He had thought about just heading straight to sleep but the song Spock had played last night had drifted through his mind as he sat down to pull his boots off, and he decided to take a walk. It was probably stupid of him—Spock hadn’t given any indication that he would be in the clearing again tonight—but that hadn’t stopped him from grabbing a light, pulling on a coat, and sneaking out of the castle. 

The forest was a little darker tonight, and Jim was grateful that he had brought a light, although it caused the branches to cast strange shadows as he walked.

He moved with purpose down the paths, his mind straying only in the sense that he recalled the moonlit meeting he had had with Spock the night before. They had hardly talked at all, really, but it was the longest conversation Jim had ever held with a fae, and he wanted to repeat the experience. Partially because he needed to know how to talk with his future husband’s people, and partially because Spock had been interesting to talk to. Even in their short conversation, he had broken a number of the stereotypes Jim associated with faes.

He reached the clearing thirty minutes or so after leaving the castle—he really had gone further than he had intended last night—and smiled. Spock was sitting on the bank of the stream in nearly the name place he had been last night. His lyre was absent, replaced with a slim book that the fae held in one hand while the other held some kind of writing device Jim had never seen before.

“Jim,” the fae spoke without looking up. “Are you avoiding someone again?”

Jim fought back a blush. Yesterday, the question might have made him defensive, but he was fairly certain he could hear humor in Spock’s voice. The fae was teasing him. “No. I was looking for you, actually.”

“Indeed.” Spock was definitely amused.

Jim walked over and settled on the bank, letting one leg hang over, the toe of his boot just barely skimming the water. “What about you? Why are you here?”

Spock carefully closed his book and set it to the side. “I find it easier to write when I am in the woods,” he replied. Then, his eyes seem to glimmer as they darted over Jim and he added, “I also anticipated that you would return, although I had expected you twenty-three minutes ago.”

A grin spread across Jim’s face, and he didn’t bother to try and hide it. He leaned back on his elbows, relaxing, and asked what life in the faes’ court was like. Spock quirked an eyebrow and replied. They talked for nearly an hour and a half that night, and the time only lengthened as the week continued.

Over the next three days, Jim learned more about the faes’ court than he had in his previous twenty years of life. Magic was an integral part of the faes’ lives, but it was a subtle thing. According to Spock, they didn’t go around trying to trick humans into joining them or use their magic on one another very frequently. It was all governed by more rules than Jim had ever imagined was possible, which gave him some sense of security. He had also learned what everyday life was like at the court—most of the actual governing involved settling disputes between the nobles and working out trade agreements with other faes—, what kind of food the faes preferred—it turned out many were vegetarian, and Spock was particularly fond of sweet fruits—, what a few of the major holidays were, and how the royal family interacted with the rest of the court and their subjects. Spock was a bit more close-mouthed about the last subject and rarely spoke of the prince unless Jim asked about him specifically. Other than that, he seemed almost eager to explain fae customs.

In return, Jim told Spock of life in the castle, what kind of treaties they had with nearby kingdoms, and talked for almost a solid hour about the exploratory groups that were being sent out. At times he felt as if he wasn’t properly repaying Spock for the sheer amount of information the fae had given him, but Spock seemed satisfied with Jim’s hare-brained, disjointed answers. 

Jim sighed heavily, collapsing onto his back and staring up at the stars above him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Spock raise an eyebrow, but the fae waited patiently for an explanation of Jim’s sudden action. It was late, later than they had stayed before, but Jim hadn’t been willing to end their conversation any sooner. His birthday was tomorrow and the next evening he would be married off to the prince of the faes. He wasn’t as scared of the marriage now, but he still wasn’t looking forward, especially since it meant he wouldn’t be able to see Spock anymore.

He wasn’t sure why it was, but he considered Spock a friend now. They’d known each other for less than a week and yet Jim felt a connection to the fae. Spock was easy to talk to, and his dry humor worked so perfectly with Jim’s more chaotic nature. It was...nice, being able to talk to someone who saw him as just Jim rather than as a prince. 

“I won’t be able to meet you again for...awhile,” he said finally, keeping his gaze on the stars. “The prince’s birthday celebration is tomorrow evening, and I have to be there. After that, I have...some personal things that will be keeping me busy. I don’t know if I’ll see you again.” A blush crept its way up his cheeks. He sounded like a schoolboy with a crush, and while Spock was  _ attractive _ , sure, that wasn’t what he meant. Especially not since he was about to get  _ married _ to Spock’s prince.

Thankfully, there was no judgment in Spock’s voice when he replied. Thinking back over the past several days, there hadn’t ever been judgment in the fae’s voice. Amusement, yes, but nothing more than that. 

“I imagine we will see one another sooner than you might believe, Jim,” he said quietly. Jim turned to look at him, propping himself up on one hand. The fae’s features were thoughtful. “Regardless, I have appreciated your company these past five days.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They held one another’s gazes for several moments and then Spock stood, breaking the spell that had fallen over them both. Jim copied the movement and bowed to the fae. “Farewell, Spock,” he said, hoping the fae could understand the emotions behind the two words.

Spock’s lips twitched upward in a smile. “Farewell, Jim.”

. . .

Jim fidgeted with the edge of his shirt. They had been about halfway through his birthday feast when a messenger had come into the hall to announce that a delegation of fae, including the queen and the prince, had arrived and wished to honor Jim’s birthday. His father had, of course, given his permission for the delegation to enter and called for an additional table to be set up at the front of the hall next to his own. Now, the entire hall was quiet, all eyes trained on the large double doors at one end, waiting for the faes to arrive.

The doors began to creak open, and Jim quickly schooled his features into a neutral expression. Tomorrow he would be marrying one of the faes that would be walking through those doors in a few seconds—he wasn’t going to let his first impression be a nervous wreck. He would be calm, as a prince should be. At least, that was the plan, until the doors swung open to reveal a party of eight people led by a human woman draped in a beautiful blue gown and a tall, dark-haired fae whose dark eyes captured Jim’s even from all the way across the room.

_ Spock. _

His father stood and welcomed the group, but Jim hardly heard the words. He was too focused on the fact that Spock, the fae he had been spending so much time with over the past few days, was the prince of the fae. He studied the fae’s face carefully, looking for any echoes of his own surprise. There were none. At some point, Spock had figured out who he was, or maybe he had known from the very first night. 

The rest of the feast passed in a blur of forced pleasantries as Jim ate and accepted gifts and good wishes from the nobles of his father’s kingdom, foreign dignitaries, and the faes. Spock was the one who gave him the gift, kneeling gracefully as he offered a small silken package. Jim took it, forcing his hands not to shake, and gestured for Spock to rise. He could feel the fae’s eyes on him as he unwrapped the small gift to reveal a carefully carved wooden medallion in the shape of a horse’s head—the symbol of his father’s kingdom.

“It is enchanted,” Spock explained, his quiet voice vibrating with power as it always did. That power felt different now, more threatening, although nothing had changed in the fae’s intonation or expression. “When you wear it, you will always know which direction your kingdom is, and you will know when you have crossed its borders.”

“Thank you,” Jim said, voice as wooden as the medallion now clutched between his fingers. There was much more he wanted to say to Spock, but he wouldn’t do it here, not in front of the rest of the court. Spock bowed and returned to his table.

Jim’s mother gave a short speech—once again, Jim’s mind didn’t register the words—and then the tables were cleared away for dancing. It was traditional for the one celebrating their birthday to dance first with each of their parents in turn and then open the floor to the rest of the court, and Jim obeyed the tradition, doing his best to focus on the feeling of first his mother’s and then his father’s hands in his as they danced.

He pushed his thoughts of Spock away, forcing himself to appreciate the way his mother’s eyes shone with unshed tears as he spun her across the floor, listening to the words of praise and love she murmured in his ear as they hugged tightly before she moved aside so that his father could take her place. He focused on the feel of his father’s calloused hands and his familiar smell, letting the comfortable silence soothe him. 

Then, the dances were over, and everything that had been building in Jim’s mind seemed to explode at once until his only thought was that he needed to find Spock, and they needed to talk.

He scanned the hall and found Spock standing with his hands behind his back near one of the large stained glass windows. The fae must have seen Jim’s gaze and known his intent, because he turned and said something to the queen, who nodded, and then he made his way along the edge of the dance floor towards Jim. The fae came to a stop a few feet away and opened his mouth to speak, but Jim held up a hand. 

“Not here. Follow me.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow but followed as Jim led the way to one of the exterior doors of the hall. He nodded to the guard there, who opened the door for the two of them. They stepped through into the small garden that Jim’s mother had carefully tended for as long as he could remember. There were larger gardens elsewhere on the castle grounds, but this one was specifically under his mother’s care, and he had always thought the flowers here were more vibrant than the others.

Jim stepped carefully through the garden until he was leaning against the stone wall of a small alcove. It had always been one of his favorite spots, and now it would afford he and Spock some additional privacy in case anyone decided to see where they had gone off to. Spock gazed at him for a long moment before settling against the wall opposite him.

“How long did you know?” Jim asked, the question escaping him almost the instant Spock’s back had touched the wall.

The fae didn’t bother to feign ignorance. “I suspected your identity the first night we met,” he replied, his gaze and voice both as steady as ever. “I was not certain until the next evening, however. You mentioned your brother was expecting a child, and the crown prince announced last week that he was expecting. It was one too many coincidences.”

Jim cursed under his breath. “You knew why I was running from the castle.”

“I presume it was the announcement of our upcoming marriage.” There was something softer in Spock’s voice, something almost like regret, but Jim was still too angry to focus on it. 

“And then you let me talk about how upset I was about not being able to join the exploratory expeditions! You’re the reason I can’t!” Jim took a deep breath, forcing the volume of his words down as he continued, “You should have told me, Spock. We’re going to get married tomorrow, and right now the basis of our relationship is one of lies.”

Something akin to pain flashed briefly across Spock’s features, and he took a half step forward before freezing. “Jim, I concealed my identity from you, but aside from that everything I have told you has been the truth. I truly have enjoyed your company.”

Despite himself, Jim felt some of his anger slip away. He frowned, suddenly worried. “Have you ever used your magic on me? Are you doing it now?”

Spock shook his head, eyes earnest. “No, Jim, and I never will.” 

Jim chewed on his lip. “I want to believe you, Spock, I do,” he said eventually. “I’m just not sure I can.”

The fae across from him bowed his head, the braids in his hair keeping it from falling in a curtain around his head as Jim had seen it do so many times. “I understand, Jim. I will speak to my father when I return home and attempt to persuade him to cancel our wedding.”

A hundred emotions welled in Jim, causing his heart to clench painfully in his chest as he shook his head. “You and I both know that he can’t do that. Both of our kingdoms need this marriage too much to call it off now.”

Spock didn’t look convinced.

“Listen, I’m still upset with you,” Jim admitted, stepping forward and placing a hand on Spock’s shoulder. It was the first time they had touched, and he could hear Spock inhale softly. He held the fae’s gaze. “I would be lying if I said I had no qualms about us getting married, but I’m willing to try it. I want to trust you, and I’m willing to work with you for that to happen.” He smiled softly and let his hand drop. “I’m almost as mad at myself for not realizing who you were sooner.”

There was a cautious hope in Spock’s eyes, and the smile he gave in return was subdued even for him, but it was there nonetheless. “Do not be. I am addressed by my formal title, ‘The Prince of Sun, Moon, and Stars’, far more often than I am by my given name.”

“The title’s a bit of a mouthful. Do you think I’ll be able to keep calling you Spock?”

The smile widened a fraction, and Jim felt something warm spread through his chest. “As my husband, you would be above the laws of court etiquette.”

“Good, because I like ‘Spock’ much better than I like ‘The Prince of Sun, Moon, and Stars’.”

“The name is more melodic in my language.”

“Still.”

They shared a quiet smile, and Jim felt the majority of the anxiety and anger he still felt fade away. He wasn’t  _ happy _ about the marriage still, but knowing it would be Spock? That made it better, somehow.

. . .

“Bones, please stop tugging on your collar, you’re making  _ me _ feel claustrophobic.”

“I can’t help it, Jim. This thing makes me feel like I’m gonna suffocate,” his friend replied with a grumble. “Besides, I thought you’d be lookin’ for an excuse not to show up today, and now you’re actually ready on time for something for the first time in your life?”

Jim felt his cheeks heat in a blush. “Well it’s not like I’m eager to get married to someone I’ve known for a grand total of a week, but I think I could do worse than Spock. You and I both know I don’t have the greatest track record with exes.”

“You mean half of them turned out to be crazy, yeah I know,” Bones muttered. Then his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you’ve known him for a week? The first time I’ve seen that prince was last night at your birthday feast.”

Jim shifted on his feet. “Well, to make a long story short, I met Spock in the woods a week ago and we’ve been meeting up at night to talk since then. I didn’t know he was the prince then.”

Bones cursed under his breath and stepped forward, grabbing Jim by the shoulders. “Jim, when you stormed out of here the night we found out about your engagement I thought you would rather die than get married off, and now you’re okay with it? Because you talked with your fae soon-to-be-husband a few times? Doesn’t that seem a little bit suspicious?”

“He isn’t using his magic on me, Bones,” Jim said, shrugging off his friend’s hands. He knew Bones was just trying to protect him and that he had had almost the exact same reaction last night himself, but he couldn’t help the small bit of anger that rose at his friend’s words. He was capable of taking care of himself. 

“Are you sure about that? You looked plenty angry last night, but then you and the fae prince went out for a talk and when you came back the two of you were practically holding hands.”

“We talked about things, Bones. I was mad that he didn’t tell me who he was when we were meeting in the forest, but I wasn’t exactly forthcoming with my identity either.”

Bones held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, Jim. You know I’m going to support you in whatever you decide to do, and I promise I’ll be civil with your husband. I’m just not ready to trust him the way you seem to.”

The anger dissipated, and Jim pulled his friend into a tight embrace. “That’s all I ask. Thank you, Bones. I don’t deserve a friend like you.”

“Sure you do, kid, just lighten up on the hug, okay, or I really will pass out.”

. . .

The sunset painted the trees red and pink that surrounded the clearing where Jim now stood across from Spock. They stood at the base of a giant tree—at least seven feet in diameter and a hundred feet tall—that was sacred to the faes of Spock’s kingdom. 

Spock was dressed in a long black robe embroidered with silver threading that gleamed in the dimming light, his hair left down save for the crown of braids that adorned his head. He looked like a storybook come to life, and Jim was so caught up in it that he almost missed the first words of the ceremony.

“By the ancient magics inherent in our people and our land, on this day will the two souls present be wed,” the priestess overseeing the ceremony intoned. “Prince James, hold out thy hand.” Jim obeyed the instruction, holding his hand in the air between him and Spock. “Prince Spock.” Spock’s hand met his and their fingers intertwined. Then, the priestess approached holding a long white ribbon. She began to wrap it around their joined hands, reciting the marriage oath as she did so.

“A marriage bonded by sun, moon, and stars is sacred. It is a partnership of equals. Only together will ye weather the changing seasons and years that all upon this earth must face.” Jim squeezed Spock’s hand instinctively, and the fae returned the pressure. He tried to focus on the words, but his mind felt too full of a hundred different emotions and sensations to take much else in. Then, he caught Spock’s eyes, and calm washed over him.

“Speak thy true names to one another now, while thine are bound as one, and thy magic shall hold no sway over one another.”

Jim’s eyes widened, and he felt something in him soften. That line, he knew, wasn’t included in all fae ceremonies. It was an unspoken rule that fae would not use their powers on one another, and negating the ability altogether required powerful magic. Spock must have specifically requested this. For him.

Spock leaned forward, lowering his voice so that only Jim would hear as he whispered, “S’chn T’gai Spock.” The air shivered with power for a moment before a kind of vacuum seemed to form, and that power was sucked into Jim’s chest. Suddenly, he knew with perfect clarity that he could say anything, ask anything, and Spock would do as he commanded. It was a terrifying power, and yet Spock was holding his hand gently, and the look in his eyes held no trace of fear. 

Jim shuddered and then tilted forward, matching Spock’s whisper. “James Tiberius Kirk.” In an instant, the power in his chest seemed to multiply a hundredfold then as quickly as it had come, it blinked out of existence, leaving simply Jim and Spock. 

“I declared thee wed. Ye may kiss.”

A nervous excitement washed over Jim as he and Spock closed the small distance remaining between them. Their lips met in a gentle, hesitant kiss. Jim smiled into it and felt his happiness echoed by the fae across from him.

. . .

They didn’t get everything right immediately. In fact, there were a lot of things they got wrong, but they became friends, they courted, and they even married a second time for good measure many years down the road. They did, however, do it together, and at the end of the day, it can be said that they lived happily ever after.


End file.
